Zan-Xi and Shoto locked eyes, the tension between them thick like an unspoken grudge. Shoto hesitated, shifting his gaze downward as he awkwardly scratched his back.
"S-so… it's been a long time," he muttered. "How did you get that sca—"
"I got the scar four years ago," Zan-Xi interrupted, his tone sharp and dismissive. Then, narrowing his eyes, he asked, "Do you even know what you're doing?"
Shoto frowned in confusion. Zan-Xi scoffed and turned away, pacing in slow circles, his arms crossed over his chest.
"The story of that reincarnated king… the swords you all carry… and let's not forget the talking cat who seems to know everything about each and every one of you—including me." His piercing gaze flickered to Neko before settling back on Shoto. "So let me ask you again: are you sure you know what you're doing?"
Shoto bit his lip, his mind racing. He averted his gaze, staring at the floor as doubts clawed at him.
Zan-Xi walked forward, stopping beside him. His voice lowered, but the authority in it was unmistakable.
"Listen, your friends can't beat my people. Even if they manage to take down one or two, neither they nor you can defeat me." He placed a firm hand on Shoto's shoulder, his grip heavy with warning. "Do yourself a favor—surrender the swords while you still can. Otherwise, you're dead. Only fools stick around long enough to be crushed by pros."
With that, he released his hold and turned back toward the gym, his footsteps echoing as he walked away.
Shoto stood frozen, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. Neko leaped off his shoulder, giving him a long, unreadable stare before silently padding after Zan-Xi, leaving Shoto alone with the weight of his cousin's words.
—
Back at the Gym
Ryuji's raised hand trembled before falling limply to his side. He staggered backward, his breathing unsteady as he locked eyes with Ryosuke, who now lay defeated on the ground.
Ren, Yuumo, and Hikaru struggled to process what had just happened. Ryuji's fight had ended quickly—too quickly. Even Endo's match had lasted longer. But at least, this time, they had secured a win.
Zan-Xi reentered the gym, his presence commanding attention. He strode toward his group, barely glancing at Ryosuke's fallen form.
"Ryosuke is eliminated," he announced, clicking his tongue in mild annoyance. "Tch. Alright, let's move on. Ezekiel."
A figure draped in a black cloak crouched low, his movements deliberate as he stepped forward.
Meanwhile, Ryuji's legs buckled, and he was about to collapse when a sudden gust of wind swept through the room.
A blur of silver moved between the two groups. Before Ryuji could hit the ground, a hand caught him, steadying his fall.
Hikaru's eyes widened in shock at the newcomer's presence. Zan-Xi, too, narrowed his eyes, confusion flickering across his face.
Neko, however, merely smirked as he leaped onto Ren's back. "This should be interesting…"
The gym doors creaked open, and Shoto hesitated at the threshold, shaking his head as if to rid himself of Zan-Xi's words. He slowly stepped inside, his gaze sweeping across the room to assess the situation.
Standing in the center was a silver-haired young man, clad in a sleek black designer jacket over a plain white T-shirt, his black jeans adorned with a subtle chain at his side. He gently lowered Ryuji to the ground, ensuring he was seated properly.
"Get some rest," he said casually. "You're not used to whatever that sword thingy can do yet."
Then, rising to his full height, he turned to face Zan-Xi and his group. His expression was calm, yet a sharp glint of anticipation danced in his eyes.
"Now," he said, cracking his knuckles. "Let's see who's the strongest." Shoto sprinted toward Hikaru, his breath quick and uneven as he skidded to a stop beside him. His wide eyes locked onto the silver-haired figure standing just ahead.
"How the hell did Tetsuya know we were here?" he blurted out, his voice laced with disbelief.
Hikaru, still trying to process the sudden turn of events, flicked his gaze between Shoto and Tetsuya. His expression was tense, his grip tightening around his sword.
"H-he just appeared out of nowhere…" Hikaru murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Tetsuya turned slightly, casting a glance over his shoulder toward them. His silver hair shimmered under the gymnasium lights, and a gleeful grin stretched across his face.
"Relax," he said casually, his tone light but confident. "I'll wrap this up quickly."
With that, he strode forward, his steps steady as he moved to the center of the gym.
Now standing face-to-face with Ezekiel, Tetsuya tilted his head slightly, studying his opponent. Ezekiel, draped in a heavy black cloak, remained still. His posture was unreadable, his face obscured by the hood. For a moment, there was no movement—just an eerie stillness.
Then, with a subtle shift, Ezekiel's fingers curled around the handle of a weapon hidden beneath his cloak. A soft metallic scrape filled the air as he slowly pulled out a massive scythe, the curved blade glinting ominously.
Tetsuya's smirk widened. His body tensed for a brief second before he suddenly crouched and launched himself forward with explosive speed.
In a blink, he closed the distance, appearing directly in front of the cloaked figure. His leg swung upward, aiming a powerful kick at Ezekiel's torso.
Ezekiel reacted instantly, leaping backward to evade the strike. As he retreated, he swung his scythe in a wide arc, its razor-sharp edge slicing through the air toward Tetsuya's neck.
Tetsuya barely managed to dodge, arching his back as the blade whooshed past him. He planted his foot down and, without hesitation, kicked upward again with his left leg, aiming for Ezekiel's midsection.
But Ezekiel twisted midair, plummeting downward to avoid the attack. His feet slammed into the gymnasium floor with such force that the wood beneath him cracked.
Tetsuya's eyes widened slightly at the unexpected display of strength, but instead of concern, his grin only grew wider.
"Oh, I'm definitely going to enjoy this," he murmured, his excitement barely contained.